In Twilight and Shadows
by cyberwulf
Summary: "...it's hard to sleep when you can hear someone going so completely to pieces just up the hall." Spike hears things he'd rather not hear.


In Twilight and Shadows  
  
By Cyberwulf  
  
Rated 12s (PG-13) because it's a bit dark .  
  
Disclaimer : Characters belong to Joss Whedon and not to me , not even the smallest little bit .  
  
Spoilers : Early season four . Spike's been living with Giles for only a couple of weeks . References to "Becoming" I and II , and that ep where Jenny got killed .  
  
Summary : Spike's POV . As he sits chained up in Giles' bath , he hears things he'd rather not hear . Okay , so this particular fic may not be realistic , given the length of time between Jenny's death and Spike getting chipped . On the other hand , torture probably has a long-term traumatic effect . On the third hand , this is just a story I had to get out of my system , so suspend your disbelief (if you're willing) and tell me what you think . I'll try and write something a bit more upbeat soon .  
  
Rupert's having the dream again . I know 'cos I can hear him sobbing through the wall .  
  
The first night I heard it , I didn't know what it was . Then I realised it was someone crying . THEN , I realised it was Rupert crying , and I don't mind admitting I felt a shiver down my back . There's something about hearing a grown man cry like that , it gets to me . Especially a strong man like Rupert .  
  
And he is strong . I've got to hand it to him , the old tiger took everything Angelus threw at him and didn't crack . He never begged for his life , and he never cried the way he's crying now . Yeah , there were tears , streaming down his face , but they were , y'know , tears of pain and anger . He wasn't sobbing back then – great big gut-wrenching sobs like the ones drifting through the wall right now .  
  
I shift about a bit . This bath is bloody uncomfortable . Still , could be worse – he could have chained me with me back jammed up against the taps . He's still sobbing . This could go on for a while . I shake my head . Has this been happening for the past year and a half ? Or is it just me being in the same house that's brought it on ? All things considered , I'm in favour of the latter theory . Eighteen months of what's going on in Rupert's head right now and the poor bastard 'ud be a raving lunatic . I must say though , I'm gaining a newfound admiration for my old sire . One thing about Angelus , he's very good at what he does . Watcher wasn't more than a day with us , and after all this time he's still traumatised . Gotta admit , the big poof made quite an impact .  
  
The third night it happened – that's about six nights ago – we had the crying , and it tailed off , and then there was silence . Then I heard the bed creak and him stumbling down the corridor and into the bathroom . I was wide awake . I'm still not used to this sleeping at night lark , and anyway it's hard to sleep when you can hear someone going so completely to pieces just up the hall . He didn't look at me – it was like he'd forgotten I was there . He ran the tap , splashed cold water on his face , and wiped his nose on his pyjama sleeve . (Pyjamas ? How old IS he ? Hmm , maybe I should just be thankful he doesn't sleep starkers . . .) I looked at him . It was about one a.m., good hunting time because humans are approaching their lowest physical and mental ebb . Rupert certainly looked it that night . Pale , tired , red eyes . . . old . And I don't know why I said it , but I did .  
  
" Y'a'right ?"  
  
He turned sharply and from the look on his face I knew he'd thought he was alone . I gave him a smirk .  
  
Next thing I knew , BLAM ! there's a numbness in my jaw that turned into pain , and my head smacked off the ceramics . I looked up at Rupert and there were two of him , standing over me with fists clenched . I blinked a few times and then there was just one of him . His face was emotionless but the eyes were on fire . I spat out a tooth. He glared at me and then went out .  
  
I couldn't believe the bastard hit me . In a weird way , it reminded me of Angelus . He'd give me a clout whenever I asked too many questions , or asked the wrong one , or answered back once too often . I didn't blame Rupert for taking a swing at me . The Slayer probably didn't tell him about our little deal , and all Rupert knows is I was the good cop to Angel's bad cop , cleaning him up and telling him to co-operate because I couldn't hold my sire back when he really got angry . And I knew what the punch meant . Tell no-one . And you won't get hurt .  
  
In the morning when he brought up my blood he didn't say a word .  
  
We never mentioned it again .  
  
Sobbing's subsided now . All I can hear is this rapid , frightened , animal breathing . Rupert's awake .  
  
He doesn't talk about it . Just keeps it all bottled up inside . I don't expect him to talk to me , but he doesn't say a word to the brats either , even when they ask . Last night he had a pretty bad night . Kept saying "Jenny" over and over . She was his bird, I think . Till Angelus put her in a permanent neck-brace . When he woke up , I heard him go downstairs and I'm fairly sure I heard him puke in the kitchen sink . When the little Scoobies came round the next morning , one of them actually noticed how rotten he looked . Not his beloved princess , the Slayer , though . I think it was what's-her-name , red hair – Willow , that's the one . She asked him if he was okay , said he looked pale .  
  
" I haven't been sleeping well of late ."  
  
I couldn't stop myself from snorting in derision . Luckily for my pretty face , no one heard .  
  
' I haven't been sleeping well of late .'  
  
He pissed the bed one night . I know 'cos I heard him swearing at himself and mucking about with the mattress .  
  
And still he tells them nothing . Because in this little gang of theirs , he's the Daddy. And Daddy doesn't have bad dreams . Daddy doesn't cry . And Daddy doesn't talk about his problems .  
  
Daddy can't sleep seven nights in a row because Favourite Daughter's psycho boyfriend killed Mummy and then tortured Daddy in the most degrading ways known to human or demon .  
  
Everything's gone very quiet up the hall , but Rupert's not asleep . He snores a little usually , and at the moment there's just complete silence . I hear him get up and start down towards me . I turn to the wall as much as I can , close my eyes and pretend I'm asleep . I've been doing it since the night he belted me one . It's tough sleeping in here . Bath's hard , and the light is on . (We had this huge debate over it . Rupert wants the bathroom light on all night , I want it off . In the end we compromised . The light's on , but he changed the bulb to a lower wattage .) But if he wants an illusion of privacy , I'm not about to argue . I know what it's like – if you're upset and you've been crying , you don't want a sarcastic bastard like me gawking at you .  
  
I hear him come in . The tap goes on . I think he's washing his face . A low moan . Deep breath . Tap goes off . I wait for him to leave . He doesn't . I hear him sit on the edge of the bath .  
  
" Spike ."  
  
He sniffs , and swallows .  
  
" Spike ."  
  
I keep my eyes closed . If he wants to take his anger out on something beautiful , he can shoot a bloody panda .  
  
" Tha-thank you for ke-keeping me alive . . ."  
  
His voice is husky and it nearly breaks . Suddenly I'm praying for him to get out of here before he falls apart in front of me . He swallows again .  
  
" I'm sorry I hit you . . ."  
  
Oh , bloody hell . If he says " it's not your fault" . . .  
  
I hear him get up and make his way to the door .  
  
" S'a'right ," I mumble .  
  
There's a pause . . . then the door creaks shut .  
  
I breathe a sigh of relief .  
  
In the morning we won't mention this again .  
  
-^)--)~ 


End file.
